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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26701630">Dream State</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skryx/pseuds/Skryx'>Skryx</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The 100 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:47:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,588</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26701630</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skryx/pseuds/Skryx</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Maybe that's how the universe works sometimes. It takes so easily, but gives when you'd least expect. Rips a life away from her desperate fingers. Then sends a friend not seen in years to see her. Taunts her with a hint of hope just as she loses the last that she has. Cruel or kind, she can't be sure and she's too drunk to know if it matters.</i>
</p>
<p>or,</p>
<p>Clarke meets an old friend and goes on a trip.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clarke Griffin/Lexa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dream State</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Title from the song by Son Lux.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In front of her was the end of the earth. Or so it felt. The ground fell away sharply, a sheer cliff face. Beyond, there was only black sea blending into a grey horizon, flashes of white from the foam of crashing waves far far below. Towering mountains rose on either side of her, equal parts gentle slopes and steep drops, shaped and carved by the elements of wind and rain. There they had stood for thousands of years and there they would stand for thousands more. The wind raced over the edge, screaming and howling into oblivion, dragging whatever it could with it. But the scraggly bushes and tufts of grass held firm, roots anchored into the dark soil and gripping tightly at the rocks, though their branches and blades whipped about wildly. They had grown here in this sparse and unrelenting land and they themselves would not relent so easily. </p>
<p>It seemed impossible, to Clarke at least, that such a landscape could exist in the same reality as those of skyscrapers built up of concrete and grass. But they did, and in the same world nonetheless. </p>
<p>How strange life is. That one day she was in such a city, every inch of it man made and carefully constructed and filled to the brim with humans. And now she was here, a mere handful of days later, in a landscape shaped by time and earth with no humans in sight except for the two of them. </p>
<p>Something about this place. Perhaps the scale of the mountains. Perhaps the vague distinction between sky and sea and eternity. Perhaps the sound of wind so loud that it itself was soundless, so strong it carried her thoughts away from her and there was only empty air in her ears. But her emotions could not be carried away so easily, anchored to her heart and being like roots to the ground. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She felt-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Insignificant.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She felt-</p>
<p>unbounded</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She felt</p>
<p>part of a whole</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She felt.</p>
<p>Oh, how she felt. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>A calm hand rested on her shoulder. Bringing her back to life.</p>
<p>"I'm glad you brought me here." Clarke said. Reached up to touch that hand. </p>
<p>"I am glad as well." The wind pulls the words to her ear obligingly before scattering them over the vast sea. The hand on her shoulder squeezes.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>
  <em>Downtown Arkadia, 11pm on a Tuesday Night</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Clarke nursed her bottle, staring blankly at the sticky bar top. The hygiene in this bar was debatable and there was no excusing it really. With a veritable lack of customers the bartender was free to wipe down the counter and at least try to remove some of the stickiness. Maybe she was mixing up cause and effect. But either way he lurked at the other end of the bar staring at the tv mounted in the corner, not giving a single damn and glaring at her whenever she dared to wave him over for more. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She could relate to that. Not giving a damn. Hell she wasn't liking herself too much either at this moment. That's why she downed the rest of her bottle tapped it annoyingly on the wood until he came over and rudely shoved her another one. It's why she's in some rundown bar getting drunk. Hating herself very quietly with as little spectators as she could.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Is that Clarke Griffin I see?" The voice sparks a faint chain of memories that disappear quickly. When she turns around she's greeted by a familiar face. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Lexa!" She stands abruptly, covering up her swaying by stumbling forward into the arms of an old friend. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Maybe that's how the universe works sometimes. It takes so easily, but gives when you'd least expect. Rips a life away from her desperate fingers. Then sends a friend not seen in years to see her. Taunts her with a hint of hope just as she loses the last that she has. Cruel or kind, she can't be sure and she's too drunk to know if it matters. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>They spend the night reminiscing over many, many drinks. The last she saw Lexa Woods was in college. They were not friends then, or at least they would not have called each other that at the time. Clarke would have called Lexa insufferable. Lexa would have said she was the most ridiculous person she's ever had the displeasure of meeting. She recalls the first time they met: Lexa an exchange student at Clarke's college, thoroughly focused on winning some pointless game, and Clarke, pre-med and annoyed at being jostled one too many times, just as equally focused on making her lose even if she herself wasn't playing. Their competitive rivalry was the source of much entertainment and exasperation for their mutual friends. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>There was never any real spite between them. The only reason she started so many arguments with Lexa was because it was fun. She liked the thrill of their quick banter and Lexa's unique brand of wit. It was simple, it was petty, and best of all she never had to worry, never had to second guess it. There was nothing better than seeing Lexa sulk after losing -a game, a debate, a bet- and the sting of losing was taken away by the sight of a victorious smirk that was somehow both infuriating and pleasing. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>They weren't friends, not really. They didn't know each other's birthdays, never shared deep secrets in the middle of the night, never really knew anything at all about each other. How could they, when every interaction was played as a match, even if they both looked forward to it. At the time Clarke contented herself with knowing (if impossibly) that Lexa was like her. Time had done the rest, coating each faded memory with nostalgia and fondness. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Though they were really only in each other's lives consistently for one year, every single one of their meetings seemed to be memorable enough to last the test of time. By the time they slowed in their recounting, many hours had passed and Clarke was very very drunk. She sank back in her seat with a sigh, still grinning slightly at the last story Lexa had told. The brunette mirrored her movement, grinning right back. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"So what, are you a hotshot doctor now?" When the words sink in, her smile fades, drooping into something forlorn. She fiddles with the handle of her glass. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Not so hotshot." She laughs, hollow. "I lost a patient today." Doctors lose patients. It's inevitable. They taught her that in medschool, try to teach you how to cope, but it's not something that can be examined in a multiple choice test. She's lost her fair share of patients and it cuts deep each time. "He had a family. A wife. A daughter. I had to tell them..." she trails off, tries to drown her sorrow in drink. A warm hand covers hers. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"I'm sorry, Clarke. I don't know how you do it."</em>
</p>
<p><em>"I don't know how to either." She murmurs. "You know, my father died in a car accident. That's why I wanted to become a doctor." A darkly humorous</em> <em> thought comes to her mind. "Who knows, maybe I've inspired another doctor today." She lifts her glass to cheers, but Lexa takes it from her hand and downs it instead. </em></p>
<p>
  <em>"There," she says, satisfied, while Clarke splutters and curses her for stealing her drink. "Life sucks. Humans are so messy. That's why I stay as far away as possible." </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Oh, right." She remembers, through the fog in her mind. "You're some Indiana Jones shit, but with a camera. I dunno, decent plumbing seems a fair exchange for all this misery." Lexa snorts.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"You should try it sometime. Take a break from all this. You seem very worn out, Clarke."</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"It's like 2am, cut me some slack. And traipsing through the wilderness isn't a break."</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Not a break then. Just a change. Away from all this madness and mess."</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"I wouldn't survive a day on my own, anyway."</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"You could come with me."</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"When do you leave?"</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Tomorrow." Clarke scoffs. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Cutting it a bit close, eh? Maybe another time." It does sound nice though. Madness and mess. That's a good way to put it. Everything feels so messy, but maybe it's just because she's drunk.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Chicken. Where’s your sense of adventure?” Lexa grins, but they clink their glasses together anyway. </em>
</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Clarke left the brunette to her work, wandering a safe distance away. She didn't want to ruin any of her pictures. Lexa takes beautiful pictures. Clarke saw them sometimes, when they popped up on her social media feed. Lexa's carefully curated professional account updates every few months with stunning photos of remote landscapes. Her private account contains more relaxed ones, adorable animals and brief moments with friends. These are even more rare and often come with no caption. Still, when they appear Clarke finds herself pausing to look at them for longer than a few seconds. </p>
<p>Allows herself to wonder about a life so different than hers. </p>
<p>She hasn't seen Lexa since their college days- has it really been eight years already?-, only hears the occasionally mention from Anya. Lexa is without a doubt the most unconventional person she knows personally, constantly moving, hard to pin down. She doesn't even have a permanent house anywhere, as far as what Anya told her. She doesn't need one. </p>
<p>Clarke has been living in the same apartment for the past four years and she hasn't left Arkadia at all for the last two of them. And now here she is. It feels as though she has stepped inside one of Lexa's photographs.</p>
<p>She sat down on the grass, leaning back against a sturdy dark rock. The number of layers she had on cushioned her from the hard edges. She pulled out the pencil and paper Lexa gave her the day before yesterday and started to sketch, whiling the hours away, her thoughts far out of reach in the wind.</p>
<p>"Clarke," she looked over her shoulder to see Lexa with her camera raised. "Say cheese." Clarke rolled her eyes, and heard the camera shutter a moment later. </p>
<p>"Lexa!" She reprimanded, laughter bubbling up despite herself. The camera clicks again before Lexa lowers it, grinning. </p>
<p>"A very dignified look," she teased. "Let's eat lunch. I'm starving." </p>
<p>Lunch is sandwiches they made yesterday. It's just zucchini, cheese and hummus. Clarke doesn't even like zucchinis, but sandwich tasted delicious out in the cold wilderness. For dessert, Lexa pulled a pack of oreos out of her backpack and waved it around with a waggle of her eyebrows. They, too, taste much more delicious than usual to Clarke. </p>
<p>"You're just tired and hungry from all the hiking," Lexa laughed when Clarke mentioned the possibility of food sorcery in Iceland. </p>
<p>"Are you done with your photos?" Clarke asked around a mouthful of the best oreo she's ever eaten. </p>
<p>"For now. I want to catch the sunset." </p>
<p>"Will we camp here then?" Lexa shook her head. </p>
<p>"Further on. Then we can make it to the village in time for lunch tomorrow." Clarke perked up at that. </p>
<p>"Something other than zuchinnis?"</p>
<p>"Didn't you say this was, and I quote 'The best damn sandwich I've ever eaten'?"</p>
<p>"Sandwiches aren't that great. And I wouldn't mind more oreos."</p>
<p>"I have another pack." Lexa laughed at the look Clarke gave her. "It's for dinner, you cookie monster."</p>
<p>"You should have brought more."</p>
<p>"Yeah, yeah, you can carry them in your backpack then." </p>
<p>"I'm just saying, I fed you better food than this."</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>
  <em>"Thanks for letting me crash here, Clarke." </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"No problem." It's the first coherent word either of them have spoken all morning, both of them nursing powerful hangovers. Clarke focuses on cooking breakfast. Normally she just has a slice of toast or some oatmeal, but today she has decided to go the full works. Sausages, bacon, baked beans... she even found some frozen hash browns in the freezer. She slides the plate in front of Lexa, who looks much better after a shower, dropping a piece of toast on the side. "Here you go."</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Ahh," Lexa sighs, breathing in deeply before wolfing it down at an impressive rate. Clarke eats at a much slower pace, stomach still a little queasy from the night before. The sadness she was trying to drown yesterday starts to re-emerge, clinging to her as her thoughts start up again. She searches for a distraction.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"When's your flight?" Lexa’s hair is up in a loose bun, stray hairs falling along the nape of her graceful neck. The old t-shirt Clarke lent her is far too baggy and hangs off one shoulder. Her green eyes are focused on the steam rising up from the cup of coffee she cradles in her hands. She looks unfairly beautiful.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"About four hours." </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"I'll see you off then.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"You don't have to."</em>
</p>
<p><em> " It's fine, I don't have work today." Lexa studies her closely.</em> </p>
<p>
  <em>"Okay." She agrees easily. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"So where are you going this time?"</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Iceland."</em>
</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>She didn't mean to do it. She hadn't even considered it. But when she stood with Lexa in the airport, about to say goodbye, instead of a farewell she said. </p>
<p>"Can I still come with you?" </p>
<p>***</p>
<p>The nights are cold. And bright. Clarke is used to bright nights- light pollution, a city that never sleeps and neon signs and billboards- but not like this. The stars shine down from above, easily noticeable in the unending dark of the night. She remembers squinting upward in the middle of cities, only picking out the very brightest of them on a good night if she's lucky. Now she doesn't have to try at all. They glow proudly. All the brighter for the comfort of the dark.</p>
<p>When they finished eating dinner, she sat outside the tent and stared upward. So many stars. Lexa settled beside her, turned her gaze skyward as well.</p>
<p>“My father tried to teach me about the stars, but I don’t remember the words he spoke anymore. I don't recognise any of these..” </p>
<p>"Typical Griffin."</p>
<p>"Enlighten me then, o'wise one." </p>
<p>“Well constellations change with the time of year and place. You might not have seen any of these stars before. That’s Polaris,” Lexa pointed upward. “The North Star. I'm sure even you have heard of it." Her voice was teasing. Clarke snorted. </p>
<p>"You overestimate me. Keep going." Lexa looked disbelieving, but humoured her anyway. </p>
<p>"It’s part of the Ursa Minor constellation, but the Nords have their own mythology and constellation for it. Almost everyone used it for guidance though since it rarely moves. Those two brighter stars below it are the other end of the constellation, forming one side of the rectangle and" Clarke tried, she really did, but honestly she was lost. Which was ironic because it was supposed to be a guiding star. </p>
<p>“Uh huh.” Clarke nodded solemnly. “Go on.” Lexa looked at her.</p>
<p>“You didn’t get any of that did you.”</p>
<p>“Not a word.” She admitted immediately. “But I appreciate the effort. I just don’t get how anyone understand constellations by just pointing, seriously. Like Jesus, there’s a billion tiny dots up there and it’s not like your very accurate finger pointing comes with that red dot sniper laser thing.” Lexa stared at her for a long moment before bursting out in laughter. In the quiet night with no one else around it rang out loudly, clear as a bell. </p>
<p>“I got a constellation wrong for years because I though my cousin was pointing at another star.” She said once her laughter subsided. “Didn’t realise until I was trying to navigate with stars and led us in the wrong direction for hours.”</p>
<p>“Ooh, Nature Girl messed up a constellation? Your reputation is ruined.”</p>
<p>“They made fun of me for years,” Lexa sighed, but the fondness is mixed with a melancholy Clarke knows all too well. And when their eyes met the loss in those green eyes confirmed what she already assumed. “Well, on the bright side they'll never make fun of me again,” she joked sarcastically, voice cracking at the end.</p>
<p>“Christ, we’re a morbidly tragic pair, aren’t we?” Lexa hums and Clarke pretends she doesn’t hear the hitch in her breath. “Wish we had some beer here to get drunk.”</p>
<p>“For the last time Clarke, it’s too troublesome to bring it with us.” Lexa’s response was automatic at this point. Clarke had been relentless in bargaining for alcohol and Lexa had almost left her right there in that grocery store in middle of nowhere Iceland. “Should sign you up for AA once we’re back in Arkadia.”</p>
<p>“My father died in a drunk driving accident.”</p>
<p>“Clearly you haven’t learned your lesson then. Or maybe you’re trying to inspire more future doctors.”</p>
<p>“Ouch.”</p>
<p>”Too far?” Lexa looked concerned.</p>
<p>“No, it’s fine. I.. it helps to talk about it like that sometimes. Humour is a great way to heal, as they say. Like when you want to laugh at a really inappropriate time, except there’s never an appropriate time after that and you have to keep holding it in... My friends get so concerned or awkward when I talk like that... so thanks for not giving a shit about me I guess.”</p>
<p>“I don’t care what you think. It sounds like you're constipated.” Lexa deadpanned, but she reached over and held her hand tightly, and it was more reassuring than any platitudes Clarke had ever received. Then she heard the crinkle of a wrapper and saw something waved under her nose.</p>
<p>An Oreo.</p>
<p>She bit half of it and Lexa withdrew her hand to pop the rest into her mouth.</p>
<p>“They’d taste even better with milk.” Clarke suggested after a brief silence.</p>
<p>“You’re incorrigible.”</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>There was nothing quite like hot food after three days of sandwiches and pre-prepared meals. Clarke savored each spoonful of warm soup, an expression of pure bliss on her face. The small restaurant was pleasantly toasty and Clarke relished the fact that her toes finally had some feeling in them. Lexa’s own bowl was in front of her and growing cold while she used the shop’s phone to call a friend of hers. They would be staying at his place for the next two nights before they continued on their hike.</p>
<p>Two nights of a soft, warm bed. Clarke could hardly wait. Her spoon clinked against her bowl and she realized with disappointment that she’d eaten it all. She eyed the bowl in front of her, chancing a glance at Lexa. The brunette met her gaze and smiled, giving a short wave before she turned, still on the phone. She shouldn’t. But....</p>
<p>“You’re ridiculous.” Lexa sighed and Clarke froze, caught in the act, stolen soup halfway to her mouth, spoon wavering. Lexa sat down and pulled her bowl back to her side, curling one arm in front of it protectively. Clarke pouted, watching Lexa eat mournfully. She startled when another bowl was placed on the table and glanced at Lexa questioningly. “I ordered another for you when I saw you about to pounce. You couldn’t wait five minutes?”<br/>
<br/>
“Thanks, Lexi,” Clarke mumbled cheerfully around a mouthful of soup dipped bread and grinned at the eye roll she received.</p>
<p>Lexa’s friend is a tall, hulking, absolute mountain of a man named Olafúr.</p>
<p>“Fuck, you’re huge,” the words slipped out of her mouth. "What are you, Clegane?" The giant doesn’t laugh, but he doesn’t squish her under his huge work boots either so she thinks that’s a win. Lexa sighed, rubbing at her temples and ushered her into the backseat. The two sat up front and chatted along the journey and Clarke grew increasingly troubled, frowning.</p>
<p>“Lexa?” She spoke up in a lull in conversation. Green eyes looked back at her in concerned. </p>
<p>“Yes, Clarke?”</p>
<p>“I don’t think I can understand English anymore.” The concern disappeared and Lexa shook her head while her friend let out a gruff sound that could have been a laugh. It was the kind of laugh a bear would have, Clarke thought.</p>
<p>“I’m speaking English to you right now.”</p>
<p>“Oh.”</p>
<p>“Go to sleep. You have a food comma and your puny doctor physique isn’t made for hiking, hotshot or not.” Clarke opened her mouth to argue out of sheer principle, even if she didn’t quite register half the words Lexa said, the tone she used was enough to start a fight. Unfortunately her eyes fluttered shut at that moment and she drifted off to sweet sleep. In her dreams she heard snatches of conversation in a strange, melodic language and the laughter of bears.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>After two nights of blissful rest on an actual mattress and hot water showers, they were on their way again. Clarke had spent most of her time lying about and complaining about her sore limbs whilst Lexa planned out their route with some advice from Olafúr. But when asked if she wanted to relax in the town instead of venturing back into the wilderness Clarke had quickly denied it. Instead she packed a deck of cards this time to pass the hours at night or when it rained and snuck more packs of oreos into her backpack than was advised. Olafúr was a man of few words and one of the only times he spoke to her was to ask if she didn't have oreos where she was from. </p>
<p>Lexa had apparently taken her inability to understand constellations personally and decided to teach her. She’d clearly been thinking about it because the moment they finished eating dinner and cleaned up, she disappeared into the tent, reappearing with a notebook and a pencil.</p>
<p>“Sit,” she said, pointing at the ground warningly when Clarke made to stand up. The blonde sat back down obediently, and watched as Lexa went over to where she had her camera set up and fiddled with it. Finally, she came back over to Clarke who was starting to get impatient, wondering what the hell she was up to.</p>
<p>“Woof,” Clarke said sarcastically. She was ignored.</p>
<p>Lexa’s idea was a good one, admittedly. She drew out rough constellation shapes on the paper, pointing to each specific star on the camera screen and then in the sky above. Clarke did her best to be deliberately obtuse (again, it was the principle of the thing) and made snarky remarks on the quality of Lexa’s drawings  and “I’m pretty sure there’s an app for this”. She did however, listen intently when Lexa told her of the stories behind each constellation or star, stories she had grown up with and learned from her friends and family and others still she had gained on her travels.</p>
<p>Her voice is compelling and the way she weaves her tales is gripping.</p>
<p>“Looking up always makes me think of Raven,” Clarke said.</p>
<p>“Ah, Raven Reyes. I heard she qualified for the astronaut program.”</p>
<p>“She did. Got her certification and everything.” Clarke felt a wave of pride. “She deserves it.”</p>
<p>“She does. She’s not up there now, is she?”</p>
<p>“Nah. Not yet. Soon.” Lexa hums. Clarke turned to look at her, wriggling onto her side. “Would you ever want to go to space? If you could.”</p>
<p>“No.” Lexa sounded resolute.</p>
<p>“What, not even a little? Think of how far away from all the annoying humans you would be.”</p>
<p>“You do know there’s other people on the space station, right? And it’s significantly harder to ignore them. Though, I guess you’re right. No matter where I go on Earth there’s always someone to annoy me.” She looked pointedly at Clarke.</p>
<p>“Very funny.”</p>
<p>”How about you? Would you join Raven in her space walking?” Lexa sat up, stretched her arms in front of her. Clarke propped herself up on her elbows.</p>
<p>“Maybe. I want to see what Earth looks like from up there. The pictures are cool, but I don’t think they do it justice.” She couldn’t make out the color of Lexa’s eyes in the dim light, but she could see the shine in them, as if they held stars of her own.</p>
<p>“Well if I ever do find myself in space, I’ll be sure to take a picture even Clarke Griffin can’t complain about.” Then she kissed her cheek, so softly that but if they had not held such warmth, they would have gone unnoticed against the slight numbness of her skin from the cold. As it was, the warmth bloomed and spread rapidly all the way down to her toes.</p>
<p>And then she stood and disappeared into the tent.</p>
<p>Clarke pressed her hand to her cheek, as if trying to imprint that sensation into her skin. </p>
<p>***</p>
<p>The wind was silent that night. Strangely still after days of howling. Instead Clarke heard the sound of distant waves crashing against the shore. One after another. Calming. She could picture it in her head. Black water crashing onto black sand. White sea foam marked each wave. Freezing cold as well when Clarke had dipped her fingers in the water. Not that it had stopped Lexa. After she was done with her pictures, madwoman had grinned at her. Clarke only stared as Lexa stripped off her clothes, calling for her to join her, and ran into the cold, dark sea.</p>
<p>“You’re fucking insane,” she spoke out loud into the darkness of the tent, hours later.</p>
<p>“Chicken.” Lexa’s voice came from her left, muffled as she was, completely burrowed into her sleeping bag for warmth. She swore she wasn't cold after she got out of the water, but Clarke knew she was full of shit. Silence fell again. But without the wind to carry away her thoughts, they built up in her head until they spilled out her mouth.</p>
<p>"You know, my father and I share the same birthday. It was pretty annoying mostly, but kinda cool sometimes." Lexa grunted, unmoving. "I’ll be 30 years old in two months. In five years I’ll be older than he ever was.” For a long moment her words hung in the air. There was shuffling beside her. She heard the sound of a zip opening and felt something lie across her stomach. </p>
<p>“Has anyone ever told you that you’re fucking depressing?” Lexa whispered in her ear, arm around her waist tightening as she pressed against her through their sleeping bags. Her warmth was comforting. She smelled fresh. Like icy water. “My arm is gonna be cold tomorrow.” She complained sleepily.</p>
<p>“You jumped into the fucking sea, I think you can handle this.” But her voice was softer, relaxing into the hug.</p>
<p>“Shh,” Lexa murmured. “Sweet dreams, Dr. Chicken.”</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Hiking was tiring. Some parts were alright, when the path was flat (it rarely was) and only curved gently. However, after a few days of hiking even these easy parts were not so easy anymore. Lexa, of course, seemed completely unaffected, her stride unchanging no matter the incline of the ground. The bulk of her warm clothes hid the shape of her body, but Clarke knew that underneath her waterproof layers she was lithe and toned. It was obvious in the ease at which she scaled the steeper steps or when she grabbed ahold of Clarke to stop her from falling to her doom (this had happened too many times to truly keep track). Clarke was by no means completely unfit-  Her job meant long hours on her feet and she did take up jogging every once in a while. She was not used to physical activity of this scale though, unlike Lexa who literally lived her life by it.</p>
<p>Clarke knew she must be slowing Lexa down quite a lot, even as she did her best to keep up. Despite this, her companion and guide never rushed her. Where the path allowed it she walked side by side with Clarke, else she often let the blonde take the lead. Only when the path grew dangerous did she go ahead to find the best route and help Clarke forward. Her presence was steady and comforting and she was generous in offering breaks for water. In the worst of times when her calves ached relentlessly and her knees felt like they would buckle, Clarke kept up a steady stream of banter to distract from the pain, even if her breath came in pants and the air in her lungs was probably best conserved for her legs and decreasing the build up of lactic acids. </p>
<p>Today, however, Lexa seemed restless. The path to take was clear this time and so she pointed Clarke the right way and roamed up and down ridges, dropping back far behind her and striding so far ahead that she disappeared from view. There was a slight frown on her face, unlike the calm, serene expression she usually wore.</p>
<p>“Is something wrong?” Clarke asked when they stopped for lunch. She had been starving and had to grab onto Lexa the next time she appeared, lest she disappeared again. By this point Clarke would wager Lexa had walked at least twice the distance as she had with all her back and forth. “We’re not lost are we?” She joked. Lexa’s frowned deepened.</p>
<p>“What do you mean?” Clarke arched an eyebrow.</p>
<p>“Well you seem very restless. All that pacing... and you keep looking around you. Is something wrong? Are we behind schedule?” It was one of her own worries. She was trying her best, but Lexa would definitely be making more progress without her. Lexa just shook her head.</p>
<p>“No, nothing. Sometimes I just feel like moving faster, I suppose.”</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to hold you back.” Lexa shook her head again.</p>
<p>“You’re making good progress, Clarke. Besides, I’m the one who invited you.” She took a drink of water. “It might be a good thing anyway. You keep me on track, make sure I stick to the plan.”</p>
<p>“Do you usually have a detailed plan then? For your hikes.” She stretched out her legs, wincing a little as her muscles pulled tight. They were sore and stretching hurt, but it was a good kind of hurt in a way.</p>
<p>“Semi detailed. I have to be careful, it can be dangerous to not do the proper planning, especially since I’m traveling alone.” She hesitated, then admitted quietly. “Sometimes I deviate. Sometimes I feel a call, an urge, a pull to... that I might find something, somewhere that I may never find the way out from.”</p>
<p>The world is beautiful. That is undeniable. There’s beauty in the small wildflowers that sprout up along the barely-there paths she walks. There’s beauty in the small streams that hide in the grass even when she steps in them accidentally. There’s beauty in the rise and fall of the land, shaped by unspoken forces. There’s beauty in the massive craggy mountains that stand steadfast and strong. There’s beauty in the sounds in the air, the ones that are oh so clear when you listen carefully. There’s beauty in the night sky, glowing moon and twinkling stars, from the sight of them alone, but also in the vastness of the universe they signify, and lastly in the knowledge that generations of humans have looked upwards and found something there. Science. Religion. Constellations, patterns conceived by civilizations and shaped to myths and legends and given meaning.</p>
<p>(There’s beauty in the silhouette of Lexa as she stands in the light of the sunset. There’s beauty in the green of her eyes, whether they shine with happiness or some unspoken melancholy. There’s beauty in the curl of her lips. There’s beauty in her voice and the words she speaks, urging Clarke on with words of encouragement, telling her stories softly under the light of stars, whispering quiet comforts when trouble invaded her sleep. There’s beauty in the way she holds her hand out for Clarke to take. There’s beauty in the way her fingers curl around her precious cameras.)</p>
<p>Clarke thought of how it would be if she were here alone. Without Lexa. If she knew map of the paths in her own mind. If she looked up in the night and found familiarity and patterns in the light as if they were written words. If her feet carried her surely through the changing terrain. She thought long and hard and very seriously, sat quietly to herself while Lexa busied herself with another photo.</p>
<p>Another stunning landscape. A ravine, mossy and dark, with water cascading down the rocks like tens of tiny waterfalls. The pink sky adds to the magic of it. Makes the scene otherworldly. Clarke came to the conclusion then that if she were here alone she would go mad eventually. That she would lose herself in the space of this earth, no longer quite a singular person. Then she thought about Lexa, constantly wandering, more than half her life spent in solitude in this terrible beauty. Something she willingly chose to do.</p>
<p>Clarke wondered if they were really so different at their cores. </p>
<p>Some of Lexa's restlessness seemed to have abated by that night, but she was quieter than usual and she didn't take out her notebook to attempt to teach Clarke more about the constellations. She went into the tent earlier than usual while Clarke lingered outside, wanting to give her some space. </p>
<p>Clarke awoke abruptly. It took her a few moments to get her bearings. The walls of the tent were dark which was strange in itself. She usually only rose when Lexa shook her awake, exhausted after their hiking. And then came the second strangeness. Lexa was not in her sleeping bag. </p>
<p>She sat up, ears pricked, but heard nothing. Rubbing at her eyes, she went off in search of her companion. She did not have to look far. Once she rounded the outcrop where they had pitched the tent, she could just make out her figure, a nearer blackness against the pitch black night. She sat atop the outcrop, legs dangling over the edge and staring pensively ahead. Clarke found a manageable path up the rocky sides and joined her. They overlooked a deep valley, though that was as much from memory as from sight in this dim light. </p>
<p>"I don't know how you can stand to be on your own for so long." She broached the silence. "What made you decide to do this?" </p>
<p>"When I was younger it brought me great joy. The humane parts of the world seemed so noisy I could not bear it for long. Ever since my uncle first took me to the forests near our home, I loved to be among the trees, the deserts, the snowcapped mountains. There's so much beauty out here that I just had to capture it, on film, in photographs, so I could show the ones I loved the places that filled my heart. I wanted to share the feelings I feel when I'm out here."</p>
<p>"And does it still give you joy?</p>
<p>"When I lost those loved ones the quiet gave me solace, a place to grieve on my own. With each picture I took I reminded myself that the world could still hold beauty. Still have meaning. It gave me hope." She drew in a haggard breath. "But when Costia died, it was different." </p>
<p>Costia. Clarke remembers the name, though it was mentioned very rarely in front of her. Three specific times that Clarke can remember.</p>
<p>
  <em>"Oh, she's Lexa's girlfriend-"</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"-news? Lexa finally got engaged to-"</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"-there was an accident."</em>
</p>
<p>Clarke never met her, but there were glimpses of her, snippets of their relationship. The way Lexa smiled at her phone before she ended their calls. Anya would never let it go without teasing her about it. The way Anya grinned when she told them Lexa was engaged and the fondness in her eyes even as she rolled her eyes about how annoying Lexa was, unable to shut up about her beloved fiance. Ironically she also ended up telling them all about the way Costia's eyes sparkled in the sunlight according to Lexa. </p>
<p>Years have passed since then. The condolences are too late, Clarke knows, but she reached out all the same, resting a hand on Lexa's knee to provide the wordless comfort brunette had given her countless times before.</p>
<p>"I'm sorry. I know how special she was to you." A hand held hers tightly.</p>
<p>"For the longest I couldn't bear to go back because as long as I was out here it didn't have to be real. She was still in our house, waiting for me to come home. All the photos I took felt as empty as I did and eventually I stopped for a while."</p>
<p>"I remember. You didn't post anything online for more than a year." She hadn't heard a single whisper of news about Lexa for that year, apart from Raven saying Anya was worried about her. </p>
<p>"It is different now. I used to come out here because I wanted to. Now I have nowhere else to go. She was my home and no matter how far I traveled I would always come back to her. Countless journeys, but she was always my destination. Ever since she's been gone it feels like I've been on the same single journey. How can it end if I don't go back home?" </p>
<p>She can't see the expression on Lexa's face, but she doesn't need to. She hugged her tightly. Felt Lexa wrap her arms around her just as tightly. She remembered how angry Anya had been when she found out where Lexa had gone in that year of silence. The photos she had returned with eventually were on another level, but when Clarke looked at them and imagined Lexa there, she understood Anya's anger. </p>
<p>"You may never find your home again, but you have a place with me. With Anya. With Lincoln. With everyone who loves you, and I know many people do. I hope you know that. And I hope that one day, when you're ready, you'll rest with us."</p>
<p>"Thank you, Clarke." The whisper tickled her ears and sent shivers down her spine. "The wound has scarred over now. It doesn't hurt as much, at least not everyday. I feel things again. But sometimes I still look for her, in places that are far away from anywhere she has ever been. I see something that reminds me of her, or of something she would love and I can't shake the notion that I would find her, if I looked. That maybe she went looking for me and she's just... lost. Somewhere."</p>
<p>Clarke can understand that. Maybe not precisely, but she knows the grief of losing someone you loved. How it comes in waves, and how you can almost forget it's there somedays. Almost. But other days it'll come crashing down. She sees her father when she sees a particular coloured sweater. She remembers him whenever she sees the ducklings by the lake in spring and hears his voice telling her about how baby ducks imprint on things. She relives losing him in the sobbing families of the people she couldn't save.</p>
<p>"You kept track of my posts?" Lexa asked, as if suddenly realising her earlier words. She sounded faintly surprised. </p>
<p>"Of course. I mean, it's nice to see them. Your photos are beautiful. But sometimes I wonder how you are, if you're still alive. Just to know." </p>
<p>The first hints of the sun appeared, peeking over the horizon. It soaked into the sky and filtered through the air. Clarke saw now that there was a river curving through the valley below, it's waters shimmering as it caught the light. It was undoubtedly beautiful. She turns to Lexa and found her already looking at her. Her camera was held in her lap, but she made no move to raise it. </p>
<p>"Not enough feeling for you?" She tried to joke, but there was a lump in the back of her throat for some reason.</p>
<p>"Sometimes I don't take the picture." Lexa said, words spoken slowly. "Sometimes because the person I want to share it with most is no longer here. But other times because I want to live in the moment. I want to remember it in my mind. Every single feeling. No distractions."</p>
<p>"Then why are you looking at me?" Clarke whispered. But she knew the answer.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Rain fell against the tent. They sat facing each other, sleeping bags unzipped. It had started out simply enough, making shadow puppets against the wall of the tent with the torch. Cute bunnies, penguins, dogs, birds... </p>
<p>"What the hell is that," Clarke laughed at the unidentifiable mess projected on the waterproof cloth. </p>
<p>"Shut up, Griffin." Lexa said, eyebrows scrunched together as she tried to remember the way her hands were supposed to twist.</p>
<p>"Give it up and admit I know more shadow puppets than you." As most things between them, it had turned into a competition of sorts. Finally, Lexa heaved out a sigh of defeat.</p>
<p>"Fine. You know more shadow puppets than me." Clarke let out a triumphant whoop and reached for another oreo. "You're getting crumbs everywhere." Lexa pointed out. </p>
<p>"Don't be such a sore loser." She purposely took another messy bite, relishing in the grimace on her face when more crumbs fell. "Ooh, I have an idea." She brushed away the crumbs and grabbed the torch, lifting it to shine upwards onto her face. "Ghost stories." As if on cue, thunder rumbled in the distance. They both glanced in the direction of it before sharing a look.  </p>
<p>"Brave words Doctor Chicken," Lexa leaned back on her hands and smirked. "You can go first." </p>
<p>Clarke was determined not to lose. They traded stories back and forth: scary tales they heard at school and summer camps and sleepovers that were full of plot holes easily seen in the light of day, urban myths about abandoned houses and such in the places they used to live, some stories that built up a mystery, a thrill, only to end abruptly and unsatisfyingly or with a stupid punchline, and just general ghost stories that everyone seemed to know. </p>
<p>Clarke had the both of them in peals of laughter after a particularly ridiculous story involving a box of buns. Lexa won out eventually though, with the advantage of having been to so many different places. </p>
<p>"Oh, god," Clarke murmured, declining the torch. Her stomach ached from all the laughing, but at the same time her shoulders felt extremely tense from where they hunched up during actual creepy stories. Not that she would admit that Lexa had managed to scare her. She didn't know how she was going to sleep tonight. "No, I'm done. I'm all out. You're superior this time." </p>
<p>Lexa grinned and set aside the torch. Clarke busied herself with brushing the crumbs off her sleeping bag (and onto Lexa's). When she looked up, she saw Lexa was still looking at her. This time, she couldn't quite gauge the expression on her face.</p>
<p>"What is it?" she asked warily. The irrational part of her suggested that maybe Lexa had been possessed by some creepy Icelandic ghost. She didn't ignore it completely. </p>
<p>"I have one more story," Lexa said. "If you're not too scared to hear it."</p>
<p>"I'm not scared," Clarke said immediately because it goes against her principles to state otherwise. Lexa grinned at her and she had the sneaking suspicion she had just fallen into a trap. </p>
<p>"Are you sure? It's pretty scary." Oh, she's definitely goading her on now. </p>
<p>"Hurry up. I'm beginning to think you're just stalling."</p>
<p>"Patience, Clarke," Lexa drawled, but she shifted forward and picked up the torch once more. The light cast eerie shadows over the features of her face, and her devious smirk only made Clarke even more nervous. </p>
<p>"Once, there was a pair of siblings," her voice was low, and Clarke had to lean forward to hear her properly. "They lived with their mother in a small cottage in the woods. Every month, their mother would go to the nearby village. As usual, before she left, she told her son to look after his little sister and made them promise to never leave the house at night for there was a beast in the woods." Fuck, Clarke already knew where this was going. "Obediently, her two children followed her instructions and waited for her to return as she always did, two days later. When night came on the second day, the little sister grew worried, but her brother reassured her. Perhaps she had been held up by something. She would be back by the next day.</p>
<p>"The two siblings waited anxiously for their mother to come home. But she did not." Called it. "They were both extremely worried and the older brother wondered what to do. Eventually, he decided to go down to the village himself. But he could not bring his sister for she was still small. Reluctantly, he promised to return by the next afternoon at the very latest. And so his little sister was left alone in their cottage in the middle of the woods." </p>
<p>"When does this get interesting?" Clarke chimed in, jeering lightly. Truthfully she was a little spooked. Previously they had mostly been messing around, but now Lexa's voice was dead serious. The faint howling of the wind outside the tent wasn't helping things. She shuffled a little closer to Lexa, uneasy. </p>
<p>"That night, the little girl struggled to fall asleep. She tossed and turned in her bed, worried about her mother and brother. Then she heard something. She listened closer. Someone was calling her name. <em>'Clarke.... Clarke'." </em>Lexa whispered, and she could only just be heard over the wind.</p>
<p>"I'm right here." Clarke rolled her eyes with false bravado, ignoring the chills running down her spine. Lexa only smiled, a sinister curl of her lips. </p>
<p>"It was her brother's voice." Lexa said, even softer. Clarke had to lean in even closer to hear her. "She knew it was. She had heard it her whole life. The little girl ran to the front door and opened it wide... but there was no one there. Then she heard it again. <em>'Clarke... Clarke'. </em>It was coming from the woods. So desperate was she to find her brother, that she ran straight into it, following the voice.</p>
<p>"But just as suddenly as it started, the voice stopped. The little girl looked around and found that she was lost. The moon was hidden by clouds and the shadows and trees all blended into one darkness. The forest she had played in all her life was completely unfamiliar. Then she felt it. A strange sensation that prickled at her skin. As if something was watching her..." </p>
<p>Suddenly, the light went out. Something grabbed her arms and dragged her down. She shrieked.</p>
<p>"God damn it, Lexa!" She yelled, once she realised what had happened and heard the familiar laughter from the body above her. She pushed roughly at the weight atop her and Lexa rolled off easily. When she had finally found the torch and turned it back on, the brunette was still laughing. </p>
<p>"I can't believe you screamed," the brunette said, gasping for breath. </p>
<p>"Not funny," Clarke scowled, though she felt the corners of her mouth tug upwards. In retribution she picked up the nearest object which happened to be Lexa's notebook and whacked the owner with it repeatedly. </p>
<p>"Ow." Lexa raised her arms to ward her off, still giggling. "Okay, okay, mercy, I'm sorry." She scrambled back to her side of the tent, sitting up. Her hair was spilling out of its neat bun, the main part of it drooped comically to one side, and her clothes were very much rumpled. However, she still had a ridiculous crooked grin one her face and looked all to pleased with herself. Clarke huffed, tossing the soft notebook at her face and Lexa adopted a more contrite look. </p>
<p>"Asshole." She muttered. But couldn't help sneaking a glance at the way her brown hair framed her face or the way her lips curved. Mustering her willpower she turned her head to the side. Her bottom lip quivered. Tears started to well in her eyes. She sniffled. Just a little. Immediately, Lexa looked stricken. </p>
<p>"Oh shit," she fumbled. "Clarke, I'm so sorry. Are you okay? I didn't mean to..." Clarke didn't look at her. "Clarke?" Lexa shuffled closer. "I didn't hurt you, did I-" In one swift movement, Clarke tackled her down. </p>
<p>"I can't believe you thought I would cry over that!" She laughed. Lexa stared up at her with wide eyes before sighing dramatically. </p>
<p>"This is what I get for being nice." Clarke scoffed. "Now, are you going to let me up?" She realised she was still atop Lexa, straddled across her waist and pinning her wrists down. Clarke was just about to roll off when she realised their faces were very, very close. And those lips were only inches from her own. They were wearing very few layers compared with the day time. Only long sleep pants and loose long sleeved shirts. She could practically feel Lexa's heat radiating through the cloth. </p>
<p>Suddenly, the tent felt very, very warm and she was all too aware of the way Lexa shifted slightly beneath her. </p>
<p>"Hmm, I don't know," she sat up to put a little more space between them so she could think a little clearer, but kept her hands on Lexa still. "Maybe I shouldn't let you get away with scaring me so easily."</p>
<p>"Well I'm very, very sorry about what I did." There wasn't much light in the tent since the torch had fallen facing the far wall, but she would swear that Lexa's eyes looked darker than usual. </p>
<p>"You don't seem very sorry." She hesitated, wondering if she should continue. Then she saw Lexa's eyes dart undeniably down towards her lips. "But I know a way you can make it up to me."</p>
<p>"And what would that be?" Lexa's voice was a low purr now, and her hips shifted again that Clake knew was definitely deliberate. </p>
<p>"Kiss me." She felt the coil of muscles beneath her, tensing and hardening as Lexa sat up and did as she asked. As soon as she felt the softness pressed against her lips she threw her arms around her neck, tangling her fingers in dark hair and pulling her as close as possible. Steady hands settled about her waist, gripping tightly as if to hold her in place. Her hips moved of their own accord, up against the warm solid body. </p>
<p>"Is this okay?" Lexa whispered against her ear, fingers tracing along the hem of her shirt.</p>
<p>"Yes." She kissed her deeply once more, shivering as cold hands slipped under her shirt, one gliding up the curve of her spine and the other smoothing over her ribs and venturing higher.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Mountains. Clarke hates mountains. The air was thin and her muscles ached constantly. She barely raised her head the whole day, gaze firmly fixed on the ground. Lexa had warned her that "This next bit will be a little trickier." And of course Clarke had made a snarky quip. Well, she had no breath for snarky quips anymore. She didn't dare to stop moving her feet because if she lost her momentum she would surely not be able to move them anymore. This proved slightly problematic since there was ice and snow forming on the ground the further up they climbed. </p>
<p>Lexa had probably saved her life nine times today. But then again she was the one who brought her here so Clarke felt conflicted. </p>
<p>"Okay, here is fine." She bumped straight into Lexa, eyes still focused on the ground and not really thinking about anything other than how much she hated walking. Once the words registered she dropped her backpack and laid down immediately, sighing as the weight was finally off her feet. </p>
<p>"Come on Clarke," she felt someone lift her up. For a moment her exhausted brain pictured an angel carrying her away into the sky, but it was just Lexa. She was carried into the tent- how had she set it up so quickly- and lowered onto her sleeping bag. She sighed at the soft surface, still too tired to move. Suddenly her feet felt much lighter and there was a gentle, kneading pressure across her calves. It drew a muffled sound of approval from her. She heard soft laughter. </p>
<p>"Alright, chicken legs."</p>
<p>She grumbled. The soft kiss pressed to the top of her head soothed her irritation. </p>
<p>"Sleep well, Clarke." </p>
<p>When she opened her eyes next, she found Lexa lying on her side next to her. </p>
<p>"You've been asleep for hours," she said, softly. Clarke closed her eyes for a moment, soaked in the feeling of gentle fingers combing through her hair. "Clarke." She sounded insistent. </p>
<p>"What is it?" She was smiling at her, a wide grin and a spark in her eyes that spoke of poorly concealed excitement. </p>
<p>"I have a surprise for you."</p>
<p>"Oh no."</p>
<p>"Shut up and come on," Lexa tugged her until she sat upright, doing her best to drag her out of the tent with a childlike eagerness. </p>
<p>"Alright, alright. Let me get my shoes back on." she noticed the snow outside. </p>
<p>"Hurry up!" Lexa called impatiently, slipping out the tent first. </p>
<p>She reached for her shoes, sleepy fingers struggling with the laces. Her grogginess from being woken so abruptly started to fade as she did so and she wondered what the surprise was. Lexa's enthusiasm was contagious and Clarke didn't bother properly lacing her second boot, exiting the tent as soon as she shoved it on her foot. </p>
<p>The breath left her lungs, coalescing into a tiny cloud in the cold air. </p>
<p>Streams of ethereal light wove through the night sky. Heavenly pathways. Trails of some unseen higher being. Messages from those long gone. Solar winds and magnetic fields and particle precipitation. </p>
<p>She couldn't look away. She felt Lexa take her elbow, guide her forward to the edge of the mountain. In the lake far, far below, surface smooth as black glass, the spectacle was mirrored with utmost clarity. </p>
<p>Finally she found her voice. </p>
<p>"This is a good surprise." </p>
<p>"Please, that's not even the surprise." </p>
<p>"What?" She turned to face Lexa, and found her still smiling from ear to ear. She looked ridiculous, Clarke thought affectionately. The glow of the aurora was caught in her green eyes.</p>
<p>"Close your eyes." </p>
<p>"Going to kiss me again, Lexa Woods?" she teased, but closed her eyes anyway. She heard the crunch of footsteps in the snow, walking away. </p>
<p>"Not if you kiss me first. And no peeking!"</p>
<p>"I wasn't!" She protested, though she was curious all the same, especially with the sounds she couldn't quite place coming from the direction of the tent. "You're so slow." She complained, not hiding her own smile. "I'm gonna open my eyes..."</p>
<p>"Don't you dare!" </p>
<p>More shuffling. Then at last the footsteps drew near once again. </p>
<p>"Okay, open them!" she heard Lexa say, and she did. The first thing that caught her eye was the smile on Lexa's face. Then her eyes trailed lower. It took her a second to process it, but when it finally clicked, Clarke burst out laughing. </p>
<p>"<em>You didn't</em>," she said in disbelief between her laughter. "Lex..." </p>
<p>In one hand Lexa held a paper plate full of artfully stacked oreos. In the other she held a glass of milk. </p>
<p>"Surprise." Lexa looked extremely pleased with herself. "Five star dining at the top of a mountain in Iceland and under the light of the aurora borealis."</p>
<p>"You brought a glass on a ten day hiking trip."</p>
<p>"Presentation is important." Clarke shook her head, at a loss for words. She crossed the space between them, slipping into the space between Lexa's arms. "Are you going to eat your cookies?" She ignored her, reaching up to cup her face in her palms instead, tracing her thumbs across her cheekbones. "This is unfair, I'm<em> holding</em> things, Clarke." </p>
<p>Her lips are so soft. Despite the cold, it's the warmest Clarke has ever felt. The heat melts them. They sink into each other. Teeth nipped at her bottom lip. One of them whimpered. Her fingers curled into Lexa's hair, tugging. Closer, closer, closer...</p>
<p>Finally, she was torn away by the inconvenient need for air. She pulled away only slightly, rested her forehead against Lexa's as they both panted for breath. Impressively, Lexa hadn't dropped anything. Part of her saw that as a challenge and she leaned in again to close the gap. This time their lips only met for mere seconds before Lexa pulled away fully. Clarke made a sound in her throat that was half whine and half growl, and moved to follow, but the brunette stepped back out of her reach. </p>
<p>"You're cheating." Lexa laughed, before holding up her offerings again. "Eat your damn oreos and milk and then we can move on to kissing. Thems the rules, Clarke."</p>
<p>"I've always been a bit of a rebel."</p>
<p>"Haven't you ever heard of saving the best for last?"</p>
<p>"In that case we should definitely do the kissing bit first."</p>
<p>"Rude." Lexa pouted. It was bit ridiculous because Lexa was for all intents a badass adventurer who Clarke would bet on in any fight (ah, college), but the worst was that it actually worked. The jut of her bottom lip and her mournful green eyes suddenly made Clarke feel incredibly guilty.</p>
<p>Eventually they compromised, Clarke sneaking in kisses between bites of milk dipped cookies as they sat and watched the sky. </p>
<p>"So," Clarke asked when the cookies were in their bellies and she was practically sitting on Lexa's lap, pressing occasional lazy kisses to any inch of bare skin she could find. Right now she was fixated on the curve of Lexa's jaw. "What's next?"</p>
<p>"It's all downhill from here, literally." Lexa said. "Then we're going back to civilisation." Clarke smiled, thinking of warm baths, a soft mattress with Lexa under her. </p>
<p>"Downhill sounds nice." </p>
<p>"Your knees won't like it. Don't get too happy." </p>
<p>"Shame. I'm pretty happy now." </p>
<p>"Yeah?"</p>
<p>"Yeah."</p>
<p>"I'm pretty happy, too." </p>
<p>She brushed a strand of hair away from Lexa's face. Counted the freckles sprinkled across her cheek. Kissed her smile. </p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Softness. She reveled in it, finally glad to have a soft surface against her back once more after days of sleeping bags that didn't quite cushion her from the hard ground. Lexa was curled into her, head tucked under Clarke's chin, a leg and an arm draped across her. She kissed soft brown hair, lazily stroking soft circles into the small of her back. The body tucked into her stirred a little and held her tighter, shivering slightly. With her free hand she drew the blankets over them again.</p>
<p>It was already morning, Clarke knew this from the sunlight filtering through the gauzy curtains. Still she made no move to get up, enjoying this quiet moment with Lexa. Their journey here was at its end. In Clarke's bag was a flight ticket home. No more waking up early and climbing endless mountains. No more cold meals. She breathed in deeply. No more going days without a proper shower. </p>
<p>No more stars. No more breath taking scenery. No more easy banter. </p>
<p>No more Lexa. </p>
<p>She knew it couldn't last forever, that it wouldn't. That she would eventually have to go back to her normal life. She couldn't sustain this kind of lifestyle honestly. It wasn't for her. But she would miss Lexa and the thought of their parting dwelled heavy in her chest. Especially since it was uncertain when she would see her again. Unconsciously, she drew her sleeping companion closer until it was impossible to tell whose limbs were whose. Memorized the feel of her skin against hers. </p>
<p>***</p>
<p>"I'll miss you."</p>
<p>"I'll miss you too." Her voice was slightly muffled, pressed against Lexa's shoulder. She never wants to let go. "Come and see me when you're in the area." </p>
<p>"I will."</p>
<p>"And don't get lost somewhere."</p>
<p>"I'll do my best."</p>
<p>"Or die." </p>
<p>"I'll write that down." Finally they separated. The wry smile on Lexa's face made her want to ask her to stay. "What is it?" Lexa said, when she stared for too long. She shook her head. </p>
<p>"Nothing." She forced away thought, telling herself it was for the best. " But Lexa seemed to understand. She cupped Clarke's cheek gently and Clarke could see the sadness lingering in her eyes. </p>
<p>"Go back and save some lives, doc." She kissed her, brief and sweet. "I'll see you when I see you." Then she pushed her away gently, out of her orbit, and each step away was a little easier. Clarke looked over her shoulder just before she went through the gates and sealed that last image of Lexa, leaning against the railings, in her mind. </p>
<p>***</p>
<p>It felt strange to be back home. Her apartment was just as she left it. The dishes she left in the dishrack were long dry by now. A musty scent lingered in the air from having been gone for two and a half weeks. Only two and a half weeks. She cracked open the windows and frowned at the dust on the table and her wilting plants. Plugged in her phone with its dead battery and took a shower. </p>
<p>She sat on her sofa, hair damp around her shoulder. </p>
<p>Her phone chimed as she turned it back on. Lexa had tagged her in a post. She swiped to open it. </p>
<p>The first photo was of the two of them and Olafúr at dinner. </p>
<p>Then pictures of just the two of them. Next to the sea. On a mountain. Pulling faces. Under the stunning light of the aurora borealis. </p>
<p>Two pictures of just Clarke, rolling her eyes in clear exasperation in one and the other with her laughing. </p>
<p>She remembered that day. Her lips twitch upward, at the memory. A hint of self consciousness creeped in as she studied the two photos. It's her, but not her. At least, not like she's ever seen herself. The emotions are written so clearly on her face. She seems to glow and even with her exasperation there's a gleam in her eye that hinted at affection. Is this how Lexa sees her? </p>
<p>She leaned back on the sofa and let herself relax, scrolling down a little. </p>
<p>Olafúr had commented something in Icelandic that the auto translation butchers. </p>
<p>From Anya, a cryptic 'what the hell lexa' to which the only response is a deliberately infuriating 'lol' from the woman in question. </p>
<p>Raven had simply typed out Clarke's name followed by a series of exclamation marks and question marks. </p>
<p>She checked her other notifications and finds (16) missed calls and (57) text messages from Raven starting from four hours ago. She sent Olafúr a follow request and then settled down to read through the messages. </p>
<p>***</p>
<p>
  <em>Two Months Later</em>
</p>
<p>Bills, bills, adverts, oh was that- nope just another bill, bank statement, more junk... </p>
<p>Clarke paused, coming across a plain white envelope with her name and address handwritten on the front and a stamp from an unfamiliar country. She dropped the other bits of mail on the table and carefully opened the envelope. Inside she found single a photograph showing a deep green tropical forest and an endlessly blue sky. </p>
<p>She recognises the handwriting scrawled on the back of it from messy notes about constellations and markings on maps. Just two words and a date. She traces the indents on the glossy paper with her thumb.</p>
<p>
  <em>Still alive. </em>
</p>
<p>She holds the photo against her chest.</p>
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